Beyond The Veil
by Irnysian
Summary: When Maeve is thrown into the veil hundreds of years ago, she assumes she's stuck alone forever. Until someone joins her. OC/Sirius Black
1. Chapter 1

She stood stock still, unmoving, unfeeling, her expression frozen in one of indifference and calm. She did not care that he was staring at her, she did not care that she had just fought with him, and she certainly didn't care that she had made him upset. That wasn't her problem, it was his, all his, and he could deal with it himself.

She already had to deal with his love; he hovered around her, orbited her like a sad moon, followed her if she left the room. He kept loving her and cherishing her, even with the way she treated him half the time. He could deal with her anger if she could deal with his love.

It had gone like this for months.

When Maeve had met him, she had instantly fallen. How perfectly drawl, how boring, how Hollywood. But she had, and at the time, she hadn't cared. But then he had fallen for her, and at that point she realized that she wasn't just mean to some people, she was like the mega-bitch of mega-bitches. It was amazing, just how much patience he had with her.

"Stop giving me those eyes. I will not be persuaded. I am angry, let me be angry."

"Even if I don't want you to be angry? Even if I think you should give yourself time to breathe and calm down, and make it all go away? Why can't you just do that? Why do you insist on being so upset?"

He moved from his spot to worm his way around her, to fold his arms around her waist and pull her in. Oh, those arms, those wonderful, strong arms…but no, she wouldn't allow herself to be persuaded, she even told him that. But the amount of effort she produced to keep her word was increasing with every movement he made; when he moved his arms to massage her shoulders, when his hand brushed her long hair off her neck, when his head fell forward and draped her in his black curtain of hair, when his lips connected to her neck. All these 'when's caused her to use more and more energy. Because even though she was a mean, angry person, even Maeve could be persuaded by the gentle puppy-dog ways of her lover.

"Sirius…you never let me be, do you? I can't be angry for more than an hour around you, can I?"

"No. I will not allow it. Anger is bad for you, it makes you frown, and you're too young to ruin your face with wrinkles, not that they would take away from your looks."

"Uhuh. I'm only letting you get away with this because my shoulders hurt. And you know our looks don't change."

He chuckled and shook his head, his hair never once leaving her face. He smelled like pine needles and fire, and he always would. She had did a very bad deed to get him back. She had begged for him to be given to her, the new soul that had passed into their world. She had begged and pleaded and cried, and finally she was given the okay to perform the ritual that would give him a solid form. And that night, the night he had come to be in her long, never-ending, damned life, she had burnt up the pine trees in the Forbidden Land that surrounded her ritual circle, had set fire to the needles she had collected, and almost caused the destruction of precious, long-since dead trees. But she had done it, with permission, to get her lover.

She had been forced through that veil hundreds of years ago. She had once been the rival for the Minister of Magic, had once been a very powerful witch capable of many things. And he had been a greedy twat, so of course he pushed her through, made her fall into this land of the dead. Soon after, her loving familiar, an Irish Wolfhound she named Venus, was found walking into the world of the dead, faithful and loyal through it all. And even with her pet, she had waited, forever it seemed, for someone to come save her from her loneliness.

Maeve Cryer was a short (dead) witch who stood at five feet, three inches, head and shoulders, with long, golden hair that fell in waves down her back, and big, green eyes that stared at everything they could see. She was not thin, she had a figure, though it wasn't very heavy, slightly above the modern average, and she held herself with a grace that spoke her age.

Sirius Black, of course, was a strange contrast. Taller, dark hair, kind face, thin with amazing gray eyes, and he was strong, wise, caring, all these wonderful things. She was a demon compared to him, he barely ever hurt flies, whereas she would swat a toad if it came too close to her shoe.

Yet, even as they were opposites, they were very much in love, and they would sit up in bed for hours, just talking while Maeve's faithful familiar laid next to the fire and dozed. Of course, there wasn't much they could do, other than talk. They were both dead, and dead people couldn't reproduce, they couldn't make friends, they couldn't have dinner parties or talk to coworkers about how horrible their job was. She had been forced to beg the Lord of this world for Sirius's soul for a reason: each person dead from the veil was to spend eternity alone. The only reason her dog had come through the veil to her was because they had been bound; Venus had been only two years younger than Maeve when they died, which would have made her 24 years old when she went through.

Now, as Maeve tried to ignore Sirius and his attempts to cheer her up, she noticed the room around her change and warp, and the sinking feeling in her stomach returned. Normally, she didn't having anyone hanging on her when this happened, and she knew that he would be taken with her when she was dragged to the Memory Chamber. He never asked how she had died, she had never told him, and she wasn't in the mood for him to find out. She didn't want him to ever find out.

Her agreement with the Lord of Death, as he liked to call himself, was that she would have to perform forbidden spells, mix her blood with the sap of a tree from the Forbidden Land and burn it. Then, in the process of burning the blood-sap mixture, she'd have to burn down the Forbidden Land. She of course found a loop-hole, and saved the Forbidden Land, but because of this, the Lord upped the ante. In exchange for Sirius's soul, she would have to endure her death over, and over, and over again. Sometimes, it was just watching her death, sometimes it was reliving it, but every time, she had no control over what was to happen; she couldn't change the events, she couldn't say anything different than she had said in the beginning, and she couldn't cast any spells to make it stop. If she somehow got around this, in any impossible way, for she was clever, she would go back to the world of the living, but only alone, and she'd leave her Venus, and Sirius, behind. And the thought of another life alone scared her, chilled her to the bone.

And now it was happening. She was being taken back to that room, back to that evil room where she had lost her life, and Sirius was right behind her, holding her, face buried in her blonde hair, unaware of the change. But soon, soon he would look up, and see where they were, and he would panic, and wonder why they were back in the place of his death. But they weren't. They would never go back to his death; only to hers.

The time came that he looked up, just as the room came into perfect focus. She knew she had only a minute before she would come into the room, an older, happier Maeve who had been brought to this room by that horrible man, so many, many years ago.

And she had been right. He panicked a bit, his arms tightened around her, and he took a step away from the veil, taking her with him, and she was sorry. Oh, she was sorry.

"Maeve…where are we? Why are we here? How can we be here! We can't even go more than a mile from our home!"

"Sirius, dear, close your eyes. Close your eyes, cover your ears, don't pay attention to anything you hear. It's all a dream, you're having a bad dream, you dozed off, don't worry about a thing."

"I don't believe you."

"Then I'm sorry."


	2. Chapter 2

She held him where he was, refused to allow him to leave his spot, to leave her alone with the painful memories of the past. For hundreds of years, she had been forced only to relive them in her thoughts, and now, ever since she had gotten her hands on Sirius, Maeve was stuck reliving it every day. What he would do when she saw her demise, she knew not, but she hoped he would just listen to her. She knew he wouldn't, he would watch, he would listen, and she knew she couldn't stop him.

An older-looking her walked through the door to the room, followed by a slightly taller, heavy-set wizard who looked to be in his 40's, though in reality, he was almost 100. She could remember, the bastard had found some way of making himself look so much better than the rest, and she was barely over 35. In death, she looked maybe 20, but in life, on her final day, was Maeve at 35, long blonde hair pulled back into a braid, face bright and happy as she was shown the room by the man she thought was a friend. She was young, and foolish, and unfortunately very powerful. And it ate at him.

"Tosya, what room is this? It's so empty…what's that veil-thing for?"

"Maeve, all in good time. This is a very special room. Not many people know about it, you know, and so you are one of the few. You should feel honored."

"Oh, I am! Tosya, you are such a great friend to me. Many others push me away, but you are kind. I am happy. Oh, what's that?"

"Ah, that is a statue. I'll have it taken out of here, once I'm Minister."

"I think you'll make a great Minister, Tosya."

The living Maeve smiled like a child, happy and living and good, and the fat asshole Tosya just smiled back, a strange glint in his eyes that the dead Maeve had never noticed, until after she was dead. He had hated her, he had plotted her death, and here it would come, such an awful thing. Such an awful man. Such an awful way to lose your life.

"Do you want to know what the veil does?"

"Yes! I would love to know! So maybe one day I can come see it again, when you're Minister…I can come visit you, right?"

"Oh, I don't know. Perhaps, if you still want to."

And as she was looking at it, getting closer and closer to see the markings on the arch, he drew his wand and pointed it at her, grinning like a mad man. Dead-Maeve let her head drop in shame, how stupid she had been in life, how stupid her living self must have seemed to Sirius, who stood next to her, staring with his eyebrows pulled together.

Living-Maeve turned around to face her 'friend', and her smile faded when she saw what he held in his fat little fist. All those months of being kind to people, being ignored, trying to help him become Minister when everyone seemed to favor her…those long months were creeping up on her, haunting her. How had she not known? You could see it in her eyes, the sadness taking over and the confusion setting in. All this time, she had seen a friend in him, and all this time, he had seen a willing victim in her.

"Tosya…I don't understand. What do you want to do to me?"

"Always so stupid, so happy…even with all your intelligence, you are dense and oblivious to everything. They see you as the Minister, you as the one making the rules and keeping things in order, when you can't even stand on your own two feet when wearing the customary robes of the Council! Why is it that you are somehow better than me!"

"Tosya, I'm sorry, but I don't get it. I don't want to be Minister, I just want to practice magic. For 35 years, all I've wanted was my magic, and that's what I do. You don't have to hurt me. Please don't hurt me."

"Oh, I'm going to hurt you. I'm going to do worse than hurt you. They won't even know what happened to you. You'll be like a faded memory in the back of their heads. Your own parents won't even remember you. This will never be told, your death will be like a ghost haunting no one. And I'll be Minister."

Before Living-Maeve could utter a sound, a cry, a plead, Tosya had his wand raised higher, and without speaking, flung her against the arch of the veil, repeatedly hitting her fragile bones against the stone, making her cry out in pain with every move her body made. He wasn't just killing her, he was murdering her, slaughtering her for no reason other than his jealousy. And he was enjoying it, too, enjoying every cry she made, every drop of blood that fell from her flying body, every tears she shed as the pain overwhelmed her weak self and pushed her past the edge of hysteria.

He was merciless. She lay on the floor now, the blood pooling around her, her body in a pile of broken bones and whimpers, and all she could do was lift her head and beg him to help her. She begged him to stop, to let her live, she would tell no one and run away, leave him to have the Minister's chair. But the pleas fell on deaf ears. All he could hear was his triumph in the future, and he could care less for her broken body, he friendship that she had so willingly offered. And now she was doomed.

Tosya walked to the broken body of Living-Maeve, of the now Dying-Maeve, and stepped on her outstretched hand, causing her even more unnecessary pain.

"A fading memory in a sea of black. No one will think of Maeve Cryer, the bain of the Wizarding World."

With those words, he stepped away from her, gave her one last swift kick to the face, and picked her up by use of his wand, the magic surrounding her turning on its brightest pupil. With one last chuckle, he waved to her, and flung her limp body through the archway, sending her fading through the veil, screaming all the way. As as her image and screams faded, so did his uneasiness. Two men walked in from the corridor and asked him if he was alright. All he said was, "It is done," and walked ahead of them. One stayed behind the clean up the mess, and the other followed Tosya out of the room, the veil forever silent of her screams.

Dead-Maeve trembled in anger and fear, always the one to wish pain on the evil wizard who ended her life, but unable to do anything. And now she had to deal with her lover knowing what had happened, knowing the very pain and emptiness she had been forced through, what hell had looked like to her.

The silence between the two was ear-splitting. She looked up at him to see what was the matter, because no doubt something was wrong. But all she saw was his smiling face looking down at her as the room around them melted and faded back to the dining room of their home. Venus was waiting for them at the door, her head lowered as she waited, and when she knew they were safely back, she got up and left again, more than likely to return to her bed.

"What? Why are you smiling?"

"I remember reading about Tosya. In a book from the Hogwarts library. Lily had read some of it to us, and I checked it out to read some more. Tosya was one of the worst Ministers. He was only Minister for three years when someone slipped him a truth serum and asked about all the bad things he had done. He had told it all to an author, and the wizard published it for everyone to read. Your name was down in the history books as one of the people he had eliminated on his way up the power ladder. He was found dead a month later. Someone had slipped a potion into his breakfast to put him to sleep, and then paid a Muggle to off him."

Maeve was strangely satisfied with this answer. But she was still embarrassed, and angry, and sad, and every emotion that went along with watching yourself being tortured and killed. And he knew it.

His arms wrapped around her middle and pulled her closer, his face going right back to its place in her hair again, and when she felt she could, the sobs took over and shook her entire body as her tears stained his shirt. She would have to wash it before they messed up the fabric.

Sirius just stood there, holding her to him. She knew there wasn't much else he could do. She was an emotional bitch, she was always going to be, but she was nice when she needed to be, and right now, she needed to cry on the shoulder of her lover.

_Fuck him_, she thought. _Fuck the wizard who damned me to this hell! I could have been living with My lover anywhere in the world! I could have been watching my children grow up, and their children, and I could have been so proud to see my grandchildren make it into Slytherin, just like their grandmother. _Oh, she had been such a good Slytherin girl, not one of those brats she heard so much about from Sirius. They were all about power and pure-blood now. True, they had always been like that, but her particular group of friends, small as they were, were Slytherins based on their potential. They were there to learn, to be guided, to be shown how to use all the power they had.

She stopped crying after a while and looked up through blood-shot eyes at the face of her partner in death. He only smiled down at her, kissed her forehead, and pressed his lips to hers. It was time to sleep, she was tired, he was tired, and they had much to talk about later. But now, it was time to go to bed, time to fall asleep in each other's arms after they were too tired to even get one more kiss in.

In the morning, it would be time to begin plotting.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Maeve woke up the next morning with the sun in her face. She had fallen asleep with face to the window, and the curtains were still open. She didn't like the daytime in this world, this world beyond the veil of death. It was a fake daytime. The sunlight was warm and bright, yes, but it didn't exist. This world was a world of eternal night, yet the illusion of a day was given. Even seasons passed her by, and it was the only way she knew how long she had been there.**_

_**She rolled onto her back and sighed, letting her still-tired body relax and her eyes close, completely serene for all of five minutes. That was all the time it took for Sirius to wake up. Somehow, whenever she woke up in the mornings, he was awake no more than five minutes later. She didn't mind it, though, and as he rolled over and pulled her closer to him, she smiled and opened her eyes to glance at him. He smiled back; they knew what today was.**_

_**Today was the anniversary of their 'marriage,' their false marriage they had staged for the sake of their own sanity, and to feel like they were something more than just trapped there for all eternity with nothing to show for it. And in her vows, Maeve had promised she would find a way for them to get back to the land of the living, among other things. She had brought him to her, and had been given her dog back by one of the Summonsers, the guards and wizards of this world. If there had been a way to do that, there had to be a way to get back. And when they got back, they would really be married.**_

_**The only problem they faced was finding out how to go about getting information. There were no magic libraries, there were no secret scrolls hidden somewhere in their small dwelling space, there was nowhere for them to go to find out any of these things. The only thing they had were the Summonsers, and they did not enjoy being disturbed. The only one that had ever been seen by Maeve was an old Summonser named Hahtog, the one that brought her Venus, and the only other was a cruel old fart whose name they did not know, the one that brought Sirius to Maeve as she slept.**_

_**Now, this did not mean that bringing a Summonser to be their audience was impossible. It just took some serious talent and people skills, to coax such a being to do your bidding. And you'd also have to have something to give them in return, for they were petty and material creatures who enjoyed adding to their collections whenever possible. They would have to think carefully about the approach they would take, and what to use to bargain with Hahtog - for they were going to try and bring Hahtog to them - for the information they needed. Summonsers knew much about this world, like walking history books with encyclopedias in the back.**_

_**But what could Hahtog possibly want from them? It wasn't like they had anything too precious or valuable, nothing that nice in this old cottage. And all her earthly possessions had been hidden from the world, on the other side of the veil. She couldn't remember why she had hidden it…Sirius, on the other hand, had given all his possessions to his godson. She had heard so much about the boy, The Boy Who Lived, and she was so excited that she may meet him, if they could ever get out of this place.**_

_**So it was settled. That evening, after spending a good deal of time locked up in their bedroom, tangled in the sheets, unmoving as they spoke of their idea, they finally appeared like ghosts from their bedroom door, clothed in pajamas and slippers. Down the stairs they went, through the corridor, down the other flight of steps, down the other corridor, and into the kitchen. Maeve would make them some tea, Sirius would sift through all the objects in that room, lay them out on the table, and then do the same in the other rooms, bringing object after object into the kitchen to add to the pile, while Maeve went from tea to dinner; even though they were dead and lived in the land of the veil, they still had to eat. They still had bodies with familiar feelings that needed to be nourished.**_

_**Maeve had found, one month, that she didn't really need food. But when she didn't eat or drink, she felt so utterly hopeless, so depressed and ill that she finally couldn't take it any longer. The first thing she saw, a small round of cheese, was the first thing she ate. And for hours, she cooked up a storm and ate anything she could, until finally, the feeling was gone, and she felt full, and happy. From then on, she swore she would never deny herself the pleasure of food. It was soon after Sirius joined her that he, too, learned of the awful feeling that went along with not getting the food his stomach yearned for, even after death.**_

_**When they had been fed, and the tea was gone, and Venus dozed next to the fire, the couple ran back up to their room to dress and be ready for the task at hand. They had found every interesting object in the house, and every interesting object in the garden, and taken it to the kitchen, where they would summon the Summonser Hahtog. Who knew they would spend their anniversary fighting their way out of the place they had been so cruelly thrown into.**_

_**Robes of deep green were worn by Maeve, over a gown of light green linen, her sleeves dipping to the floor. For Sirius, a gold-colored shirt under black robes and a black vest, black dress pants to top the look off. Again, they were practically opposites, but neither minded, and as far as personality went, Maeve was really trying to get her temper under order.**_

"_**Ow! That was my neck, you twat! Bloody hell, that hurt…"**_

"_**I'm sorry, Maeve, but if you would just hold still, I'd be able to pin in properly!"**_

_**That was Sirius, always patient and uncaring of what words she used with him. Apparently, her temper needed more work.**_

_**When they were done getting ready, down again they rushed, into the cellar to collect the ingredients for the potion Maeve would make to give Hahtog (a favorite treat of the Summonsers, a delightful potion used almost like a drug would be in the Muggle world), and then she scoured her shelves of books for the journal she had kept in the beginning, the one chronicling all the spells, in order of importance, that she had learned here and that pertained to her needs. When everything was in order, she drew her circle, called Venus into it, and took her place next to Sirius.**_

_**In the next five minutes, as she went on chanting the words, an eerie silence invaded the room, and Venus began to whine. Maeve only glanced at the dog, to make sure she was staying put, and Sirius was quick to hold her back when the light began to shine. This light was different, though, it was dark, and horrible, like a horror story in the form of an orb, and as the orb grew, so did the shape inside the orb, until the entire room was infected with the dark red glow of the orb as its inside form morphed and grinned at those within the circle.**_

_**Hahtog laughed.**_


	4. Chapter 4

The Summonser Hahtog appeared in our kitchen that night, that fake night, laughing like a maniac. It wasn't until he opened his eyes that he realized what was happening, and he smiled and laughed again with a big booming chuckle, like a great fat wizard, or the Muggle's Santa Claus. And then I knew he would be helpful. I pointed to the potion and told him what it was, and he was pleased and lifted the cauldron with a pinky, or what looked like a pinky, and slipped it somewhere I don't know in his long, tattered robes.

He looked us over; Sirius stood smiling nervously next to me, his hand resting on the head of my lovely Venus, who was panting and looking around the room like nothing was happening. Hahtog asked if we had any other gifts for him, and Sirius beat me to answering.

"Yes, there's all those trinkets on the table for you to choose from."

"Yes, Hahtog, anything you wish. But, if you help us leave from this place, you can have everything on that table, and this house, and all the contents aside from what's on that table to house your collection, because if my memory serves me, you have a large collection."

Again the booming chuckle rang through the stone and wood home, and Hahtog floated his for-show body toward the table, sifted through the object on it. After ten minutes of waiting patiently, he selected a small silver kettle with gold paintings of hens, and a spoon the size of one of my fingers, which for those who don't know, is very small. Again, he put these things in a place I could never even dream to ask about, and scratched his chin.

"I don't know. Only two wizards have ever escaped from this place, and that was after hundreds of years suffering alone, studying the dark arts. You are a completely different story; there are three of you, one an animal, and you wish to take yourselves back to the land of the living? You know that your bodies will age a bit? Not to what they were when you fell through the veil, but enough to show that you've lived a life separate from the rest. You'll have to dig up your old identities and re-instate them, that's always a tough one…"

"But it can be done? We can go back to the living world?"

"Yes, yes…but I can only give you the components necessary for the travel. You have to do everything else. And I see you've isolated yourselves in that circle…is there a reason, Maeve?"

"You can never be too careful, you know. I meant to summon you, and I did, but what if it had been someone else? This circle is a blessed one, like the magic of old, the magic I learned."

"The magic of the Earth…I remember that. What wonderful and powerful stuff. I do like much of the modern magic, too. Did you know that one wizard, Voldemort, has been killed? Years ago it was, but of course you weren't there to see it. You probably don't even know who he is…"

I felt Sirius tense up beside me, and I spent a fraction of a second glancing at him to see what was the matter. He was struggling not to smile, not to seem pleased. It was at that point that I remembered the stories of his time, and his godson. I knew he wanted to ask about him, but he kept himself silent.

We all spoke for another hour on what was to be done. He left us with two books, candles, sage sticks, and enough oil to make a Greek Olympic runner jealous. We decided we would get a good night's sleep before we did what was required, and that's what we did. We hung up our robes and dress clothes, to be worn when we got back to the world of the living, if we managed to make it. And with Venus asleep again by the fire in the study, Sirius and I retired to our room, our last night left in hope and freedom of death. We were dead. There was nothing to worry about anymore.

When we woke up, a bit sore from falling asleep curled up on opposite sides of the bed, we were almost too scared to move. We wanted nothing more than for this to work, and as I rose from my spot to bathe, I felt my stomach whirl and drop in the suspense of the situation. Half of my bath was spent alone, worrying more than the healthy dose of worry, and the other half was spent worrying with Sirius staring at me from the other end of the big marble tub.

I remember our conversations in the beginning, when we thought we'd be stuck alone forever, just the two of us and a dog. At first, he was terrified of this world, this dead world, and angry that I would assume I would come willingly to my side. At the same time, I was angry that he was angry, because I swore I had saved him from an eternity alone in a world full of nothing but the passing of fake seasons, the passing of fake days, seasons and days set only to show the passing of time in the living world, to torture you for endless decades and centuries.

He didn't believe me at first. But then the days dragged on, and the weeks wore in, and the months brought him closer to me, and within a year of this horrid beginning, we found ourselves intertwined in what had been my bedroom. He had refused to sleep in the same house as me before, preferring the porch to the spare rooms or couches; now we slept together as if it was what we had done for our entire lives, as if it was nothing but the way of life.

Now, years after he had been with me (many years, from the sound of the news Hahtog had given us, and the year he had said we had reached in the living world), we were again staring at each other from opposite ends of the bathtub, sitting in the water until our bodies threatened to prune, and the water grew cold. That is what I had hated about baths as a girl; they always got cold, and you were forced to get out.

I didn't want to be in the dressing room (this was an old house Hahtog had put me in, it had bathrooms, dressing rooms, separate bedrooms for the happy couple, so many rooms!) then, putting my gown and my robes back on. Again, I put on the light green gown that hugged my arms and bust, and flared out into billows of cloth. Again, I put on the thing, dark green under robe that had no sleeves, than the thicker one, the shorter one that hung over in a yet darker shade and had sleeves that dragged along the floor. Again Sirius pulled on those dress pants, and tucked in the gold shirt, left the top buttons un-done (upon request by myself), slipped the black vest over his shoulders and fastened the buttons quickly. And once more, he put on his long black robes, and laced his shoes, and helped me get into my own little slippers, because to be frank, my dress was very much in the way.

These clothes I had made with my own two hands. These clothes I now looked at in the mirror as he again helped me fasten my hair back, as I had helped him do to his own black hair, and those other clothes I had slaved over were thrown into a bag, as many as could fit, and we brought it with us on our trip to our clearing. Venus shuffled beside us, so like a human that I laughed a bit, and I believe I startled her, because she skipped a step and almost fell.

I prefer not to go into detail my preparations. For they were of the most vile in some respects; I had thought bringing Sirius to me was horrid, burning down all those trees, but I had never worked with the blood of any creature, and I had never been forced to smell burning flesh. And now I had to. It was absolutely frowned upon by myself, no matter how much I wanted to leave, and even Sirius, whose own background is drenched in dark magic, scowled at the smell and thought of what I was doing.

But we refused to complain. We asked for this, and this is what we were to get. Complaining was for those who were ungrateful for something so precious as another chance at life.

We stepped within the circle and gave what was required of us, and before I knew what was going on, the circle turned into a portkey between the worlds. What I remember of it was falling through the blackness of the space surrounding the dead world we had called home for so long, clinging to Sirius for life I knew not if I had. We both held the leash we knew Venus was on the other end of, and I know I speak for both of us when I say we were begging our hands to stay strong and never let her go, never let our precious pet go.

It felt like the world ended. There was nothing, no heat, no cold, no air, no light or darkness, just nothing. We couldn't see anything, but we could feel each other, and we could hear, in our minds, the whimpers of Venus, so we knew she was there. And in the next second, we were standing in a similar clearing, an empty expanse of land surrounded by trees, no other people. Venus barked and walked around us, sniffing. We knew not where we were, but it seemed as if the dog knew, because she started jumping and barking and rubbing against us, as if begging to show us the way to someplace unknown.

We found the Ministry. We found it and told them who we were, and that we needed to be brought back, in records, to say that we were. We wanted others, but only those who needed to know, to know what had happened. And for some reason, they did it. I thought they would look at us as maniacs, but I suppose after the events of the past twenty years, they would have accepted anything.

I met Harry Potter, and his wife Ginny. I met his best friends Ron and Hermione Weasley, and all the Weasley family, and Harry's children. They were delightful, and so kind, and I was welcomed, even being a Slytherin amongst so many Gryffindor. And within a year, after Sirius and I were really married, and I had become a favorite godmother to Harry and his three children, James, Albus, and Lily (Sirius cried when he saw his godson and heard the names of his children, and for the first time, I cried with him), I was a mother myself.

Sirius and I named the twins Remus and Nymphadora. I did not mind naming them after such wonderful people in his life, for the names I thought worked well. Even stranger, my daughter was a Metamorphmagus herself, which was even more odd when I tried to remember if I even had family with that ability.

Now, we live far away from Sirius's childhood home, in a large house in a Wizarding community. I practice every day, and teach my children the magic I was taught, and we are getting ready to welcome yet another child into our family. Harry, Ginny, Ron, Hermione, and their children come visit often, and I see our cousin Teddy as well. He was a bit sad when he heard our children's names, but he soon warmed up to it. It isn't everyday that you find a family like us, and I do not look back on my hours of work to get back here with any sadness. In fact, I welcome the memories.

If you are reading this, it means I made it. It means I, Maeve Black, wife of Sirius Black and mother of Remus and Nymphadora Black, and a new Baby Black who is not born yet, made it back to the world I used to know, and have made a life for myself again. And we are happy.

Author's Note:

Alright, so, I hope you all know that I tried…not so terribly hard on this, but I still tried. You must understand, this is my first (and hopefully shortest) fan-fiction, and in the event that I get my butt in gear and write more, I really hope they will be better, and longer. I'll tell you now, being 16 and afraid to show anyone your writing skills puts a damper on anything. Somehow, it took me over a month to complete this, and everyone who has read it knows it's nothing special, or long. Hell, this chapter is the longest by far! And in my writing processor, it's only four pages (the actual chapter, not all this boring commentary)!

Now, I really do hope all this will be looked at happily. I need to think of what else to do; currently, I'm thinking Doctor Who or Torchwood, but then I'd be even more of a mega-geek. I mean, I've already written a fan-fiction (geek) about a book series that more than half the people in my school view as weird (geek), and I've added a new character who secretly represents me (geek) to be the wife of Sirius Black (geek!). Oh, and did I mention I was incredibly vague and boring in the fan-fiction and brought them back to life (super-geek!)?

Yes, I have hit that mark.

Anyway, I will be writing more. For those few who read this (I'm sure there may be more in the future, but you never know), I'd like to know what you think. Should I do another geeky HP fanfic? Should I do a geeky fanfic about a British science-fiction television show? Or perhaps should I really challenge myself in the geek department and make a fan fiction based on one of the animes I read (-cough-InuYasha-cough- Huh, what was that)?

As always, though I never state it, have a great day, be happy, smile for the crowd (they can't hurt you if you don't let them), say thank you to those who insult you, and always enjoy life (and my writing! If you dare -que evil music-)! (^-^)


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